


Ivory and Irony

by Selah



Series: Deluhi [4]
Category: Diablo II, Diablo III, Heroes of the Storm (Video Game), Overwatch (Video Game), StarCraft, World of Warcraft
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Authority Figures, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Season of Kink 2017, headcanons galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selah/pseuds/Selah
Summary: Rosa Morales, combat medic, always thought of herself as a good person at heart. She definitely wasn't ready for what the Nexus had planned for her.





	Ivory and Irony

**Author's Note:**

> Moving Morales into Raynor's Raiders means I've had to give her a completely different backstory, but hell, even mercs need medics. Even with all the in-game Confederacy B.S., I've gone ahead and said some of Raynor's mercs, including infantry, are women because yes, dammit. At some point, Medics had a quick disengage booster in their armor that allowed them to make a quick jump out of combat - I've put this into Morales' armor, even though that ability doesn't exist in-game for her.
> 
> And yes, I really do think the Catholic Church will still exist, even in the 25th Century. Fight me. XD
> 
> That said, the things Tyrael tells Rosa come less from Catholic dogma and more ... else. The angels of the Diablo games aren't as you'd expect from Catholic teachings, anyway, so....

Rosa Morales had always viewed herself as a good model citizen of the Human Confederacy. Good, solid parents from good families with long histories of community service and faith. She hadn't realized just how sheltered her Catholic farm girl upbringing had been until, to pay for medical training, she joined the Confederate space force. Patching up Marines had very quickly opened her eyes. Still, she kept to her faith, learned how to tune out the cruder comments while still doing her job, and quietly welcomed the chance to be posted on quiet little colony world Mar Sara.

Right up until the whole universe changed. The Zerg came under cover of darkness, before she knew it they had infested her base's command center. If not for the very timely arrival of a certain colonial marshal and his team of rescuers.... Rosa had stuck close to Marshal James Raynor after that, even when he broke ranks, first to ally with the Sons of Korhal and then even later when he hijacked Arcturus Mengsk's own flagship and struck out on his own. Raynor's Raiders might have turned mercenary, but at least they were trying to help people. Raynor's heart was in the right place and even mercenaries needed medics. Things were going to be fine, she had faith. Raynor was a good man, God would find a way.

What she hadn't expected, what she never could have expected, was for God's way to come in the form of the Protoss Expeditionary Fleet, the great ships that had burned entire worlds to ash to try to stem the Zerg tide. Such death and destruction from such elegant perfection... Only God's providence had saved _Hyperion_ from the cleansing fires, she was certain of it.

And then the Nexus happened.

~*~*~

For a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears, all she could see was the blank inside of her blast-shielded helmet. She had no idea how long it lasted, how many times the comm chirped at her before she was clear enough to open the channel.

“This is Morales.”

_“So it is. Well met, my friend, you have much to learn. Lady Valla! Please help Miss Morales.”_

“Uh, it's Lieutenant, actually,” she said, twitching the toggle on her helmet's blast shield. What she saw sent her to her knees, even in the ungainly field armor, Catholic prayers falling from her lips. 

_“Now's really not the best time for that.”_

A hooded woman in ancient style hunting leathers stood over her, bristling with small, equally ancient weapons, mostly knives, but also a pair of handgun-like crossbows. Rosa blinked, shaking her head a little. This had to be a dream, then. How else could she have gotten from the _Hyperion_ to ... wherever this was. That was almost a comforting thought, as weird as this place seemed to be.

 _“First timer?”_ the woman asked, tapping her ear as if to adjust a hidden earwig. _“Great. Look, just ... stay behind me, okay? Do whatever it is you healer types do, I'll get you through, okay?”_

“Okay,” she agreed, getting back on her feet. She had no real grasp of what any of that meant, exactly, but ... staying back and keeping Marines - or whatever this woman was - healed were her usual combat priorities anyway. She was no good to anyone blown to pieces.

~*~*~

Metal rattled against metal, but Rosa was a bit too preoccupied with not puking to pay attention at first. Which was odd because she never got jump sick, not once, not even in simulations back in basic training. And when had she gotten armored up? It ... it had only been a dream ... hadn't it?

“Morales? You okay in there?”

She nearly cracked her head against her own armor she looked up so fast. Raynor and one of their new Protoss allies, though she had no idea who. She was in a blank compartment on _Gantrithor_ , had to be with that shade of grey and the size of the room, not unlike a small hangar. So ... not a dream? But that didn't explain where she was or how she'd gotten there. Or the headache building behind her eyes.

“Tass, wait. Morales, can you get out of your suit on your own?”

“You know that's not how these things are built, sir,” she said, scanning the room. Completely bare. This was going to be ... interesting.

“Not really familiar with the specs on yours, actually. Never rated that high in the Confederacy and Mengsk was a little too ... well, let's just say I've still got a lot of catching up to do. Do we need to take it apart or can we pull you up through the neck?”

“Um, need the helmet and chest pieces off. And a step ladder, maybe? Um, if you've got a thought....”

“Shut 'er down, Morales, and we'll get you out, okay?”

Trying not to wear her doubts on her sleeve, Morales hurried her way through a power-down, then twisted off the helmet, though she wasn't sure what to do with it. A dark shadow fell over her and she could feel the suit being opened, the helmet lifted from her hands. Right, the Protoss had advanced psi abilities, including telekinesis.

“Thanks,” she mumbled as she felt herself being lifted clear, then set back on her feet.

“The khalai will convert the compartment next to yours, friend Raynor. I leave explaining in your hands.”

“Thanks, Tass,” Raynor said and she could have sworn that was bitter sarcasm in her commander's voice. “Come on, Morales, you should be safe long enough for a cup of coffee.”

“Do we even _have_ coffee, sir?”

“You'd be amazed what the khalai can do, though you might want something stronger than coffee by the time we're done. Not that we actually have anything like that. Yet. Tass keeps promising....”

Not the most promising start to a conversation. Worse, her commander had been right, before he finished explaining she found herself wishing for a beer or three. Maybe then what he was saying would make sense. Dimensional rifts and multiverse theory, angels and demons, orcs and elves. It was all a bit much, really, and had she not met an angel herself, she would not have believed any of it. She still wasn't sure she believed it. Maybe if she started smaller....

“What did the Executor mean, about converting the compartment next to yours?”

“I moved off _Hyperion_ , at his recommendation, because the Nexus was taking me. I won't pretend to know the hows or whys, but it always take me - and now you, too, I'm guessing, in full combat armor and, now that I've got this stateroom, it always deposits me back here, still in that full combat armor. The khalai built that suit dock with a beacon or something, I don't know, I always come back to the same place. And trust me, whatever you experienced in your first match, it's better to come back somewhere with privacy. And the ability to get out of your monkey suit by yourself if necessary. The good ones aren't too bad, but if things get hairy, if a match goes south....”

Morales wasn't entirely sure how to take her commander's descent into brooding silence. He obviously had more than a little experience with this Nexus, weeks of it if this had all started with that announcement of the _Gantrithor_ getting caught up in some sort of space-time rift.

“You'll be okay, Rosa,” he said after a bit, his voice strangely subdued. “It can be a weird experience and it's all pretty random, but.... If you don't have me or Tass, there's always the core bruisers like Tyrael and Sonya, they'll protect you as best they can. Valla's not bad, but she's a little crazy sometimes, gets kinda reckless. You'd have your work cut out with her, but you could handle it, I'm sure. And Uther, he'd do his best to keep you safe, too, it's in his creed. Protect the weak.”

“I don't know, Valla wasn't any worse than some of your boys have been, as far as charging in headfirst where angels fear to tread, so to speak”

“Oh, so you've met her, huh? Well, you're one of the best damn field medics I've ever known, I'm sure you'll do fine. And if you ever want to talk about the things you see there, I'm here for you, okay?”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, almost afraid to ask what he thought she might need to bring to him. Maybe it was better not to ask.

~*~*~

Things seemed to settle into a sort of routine after that. Once or twice a day, Morales would get called into the Nexus. Some matches went quickly, others took longer. She was on the winning side more often than not, though there was an entire week where, no matter who she was teamed with or what they did, her side couldn't pull out a win at all. That had been especially demoralizing.

Dying in a Nexus match was also something completely unlike anything she had grown up believing, though she could easily put that down to the fact that deaths in the Nexus weren't entirely real. Still, it was uncomfortable enough that she made a point of hiding after that any time she found herself alone, losing and with all her other teammates dead at once. It didn't feel particularly honorable, but better than sacrificing herself for nothing.

Despite having a stateroom on _Gantrithor_ 's flag decks, Morales still spent most of her time between matches aboard _Hyperion_ , doing the same things as before. She also found herself compiling profiles on the other people she met in the Nexus. Chen and Li-Li Stormstout were especially fascinating, being anthropomorphic pandas. Chen had a hundred stories and then some, but she only got the smallest bits and pieces in the rare lulls in the middle of a match. It was frustrating, but she would take the frustration over the discomfort of being teamed with Zerg. Or worse, the unholy minions of Hell, Arthas and Leoric and their dark master, Diablo himself. Just the memory of that terrifying hulk was enough to give her nightmares, but she kept it to herself. Raynor obviously had enough on his plate, dealing with his men, he didn't need her making it worse.

“Must be nice, knowing you're special enough to rate getting off this tub any time you want.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” the Marine behind her growled, one of the few women in the infantry section. “You aren't even the top doc. You aren't top anything. What makes you so special? You know the commander ain't exactly the faithful type, right?”

“I ... what?”

“Enjoy the ride while it lasts, Morales. He'll move on to someone else pretty soon and you'll be back here, stuck just like the rest of us.”

“Lestrade? I cleared your exam five minutes ago. Head on back to your unit.”

The woman complied without another word, but there was still something about the way she did so that left Morales feeling uncomfortable in her own skin.

“Morales? You okay?”

“Yes, sir, fine,” she said, trying to shake it off.

“Try not to think too much about the jarheads like Lestrade, okay?” the doctor said, offering her a small, sympathetic smile. “The infantry grunts are getting restless, cooped up on the ship all the time, it's nothing more than that. And I'm not saying anything on it, but if you _do_ have the Commander's ear? If there's anything he can do to get them out of the barracks....”

“I don't have any more pull with him than you do yourself, sir,” she said with another slight shake of her head. “But if you think it'll help....”

She didn't understand the Nexus anywhere near well enough to have even the most basic idea of what could be done for the troops, but maybe Raynor would. Or the Protoss. Maybe just getting the Marines rotated off _Hyperion_ for a bit would help? If nothing else, _Gantrithor_ would be a change of scenery. It was worth suggesting anyway.

~*~*~

Despite the frequency of matches, Morales didn't pull that many with Raynor on her team, even fewer with Tassadar. When she zoned in to find both of them standing over her, it actually worried her a bit.

“You....”

“Raynor, my friend! I....”

Morales didn't know much about their Protoss allies, that sort of thing was well above her pay grade, but she recognized the aggression in her commander's stance, even in his armor. And the surprise when Tassadar swept past them both to embrace the other Protoss. If she didn't know better, she would have thought she saw tears on the stranger's face.

“Come,” Tyrael's deep voice said, the angel physically herding them away from the other two. “There is not much time and they have much to discuss.”

“What's going on?”

“The Nexus is expanding, new variables calculated, new components installed. There will be many new faces in the weeks to come.”

“Artanis is hardly a new face,” Raynor grumbled, anger in his every step.

“This Artanis is not the same templar you have known, my friend. This one comes from several war-torn years into your future. He is the first of many new additions, from each of the realms.”

“... this Nexus stuff is never going to end, is it?”

“As I said before, my friend, when its purpose is fulfilled. Fear not, James Raynor. You are indeed blessed by the Light. As are you, Rosa Morales.”

“He always says that. Still don't feel it,” her commander groused, slamming his visor shut with one hand and cocking his rifle with the other before stomping through the gates along with a team of foot soldiers and archers. Morales sealed her own helmet as she trailed after him, smiling to herself. At least a cranky Raynor was something she could say she was used to and knew how to handle.

By luck or someone else's design, they had drawn a zone that reminded Morales of a fantastical Egypt, complete with scarab motifs and animal-headed temple guardians. The sort of map that forced a team to spread out until the final stage. Morales didn't mind, it was easier for her to keep track of just one or two, rather than juggling the whole team at once. But it also meant she had more time on her hands to notice things. Like the way Tassadar kept coming to check on them. Or rather, on the commander, since he never said more than two words to her.

 _You're losing it, girl_ , she scolded herself, shaking her head. It was good tactics to keep up with the other team members, that was all, surely. Of course the Protoss Executor could have done that without physically coming to them all the time, but....

A sudden string of expletives broke her chain of thought, red warnings flashing across her HUD. With a few choice epithets of her own, she sprang forward, grabbing Raynor and jumping them out of the immediate line of fire.

“Better hearth back, sir,” she said even as she hit her own recall button.

“Already on it, Rosa,” the commander confirmed. “What the hell was that, anyway?”

“Big, ugly, and disturbingly Zerg-like. Other than that, I didn't stick around to study it, sir.”

“Guess someone thought we were getting too comfortable with the way things have been,” he groused. “Well, it wouldn't be any fun if they didn't throw in the occasional monkey wrench, right?”

“Remind me to have a long talk about your definition of fun later, sir,” Morales said, following him back out into the lanes. And yet Raynor's laugh was gently reassuring. At least they were in this madness together.

~*~*~

Morales rolled her shoulders as she stepped down from the hearthstone, glancing around her. This place was new to her, wooden floorboards creaking under the weight of her armor.

“God-fucking-dammit. Genji, you're killin' me here!”

Rosa glanced over at the woman who had spoken, sizing up both her and the strange man - or man-shaped robot, she wasn't sure yet - next to her. She didn't recognize either of them, a little surprising with as many matches as she had been through since all of this Nexus business had started however long ago. Then again, that probably just meant she was overdue for a monkey wrench or two of her own, as Raynor would say. At least the other two, Varian and Sonya, were familiar. Four charges on unfamiliar terrain, two of whom were unknowns and the other two prone to leaping in blindly and trusting to God to have their backs. This could get interesting.

“All right, look guys,” she said, addressing the whole team, “there's only one of me for two lanes and I don't know this zone or its mechanics, so if you bite it while I'm on the other lane, it's not my fault.”

“This is Hanamura, castles of woe,” the unfamiliar woman piped up. “Standard issue payload escort zone, so once Athena starts putting those out, your heals priority should go to whoever's on escort. Probably me and hopefully one of these loverly bruisers. Lena Oxton, by the way, but call me Tracer, luv.”

“Rosa Morales, nice to meet you, I guess.”

Oxton quirked a brow at her, probably intending to ask what she meant, when Athena - or at least she assumed that's who it was - announced that battle would start in ten seconds. With no more time for chatting, Morales fell in with Sonya and hoped for the best.

~*~*~

“Oh you've _got_ to be fucking _kidding_ me.”

Morales bit back a grin, following Raynor into their end of the Braxis zone.

“Been seeing this one a lot lately, sir?”

“So much so I've started seeing it in my sleep, Morales,” he agreed with a low growl. “Tass really needs to figure out a way of getting me a beer. Or ten.”

“Did someone say beer? Greetings, my little flower friend! And who is this with you then?”

“Master Chen, it's good to see you again. This is Commander James Raynor, my boss's boss, so to speak. Sir, allow me to introduce Master Chen Stormstout, Lorekeeper and brewmaster, though I'm surprised the two of you haven't met before _now_....”

“Brewmaster as in beer brewing?” Raynor asked and Rosa had to bite down a giggle at the hopefulness in her commander's voice. If she had known how badly the commander had been craving a beer....

“Indeed! Stormstout ale is among the finest in all Azeroth,” the Pandaren said, patting his keg with obvious pride. “Always keep some with me. A good ale makes the fighting go more easily, don't you agree?”

“Chen my man, if you've got enough to share, you may just be my new best friend.”

“A pint is always better for being shared!”

“Not now, Master Chen,” Jaina interrupted. “Save it for after the match. Stormstout may help _you_ battle better, but it doesn't have the same effect on us humans.”

“Oh very well. Nexus! A hold for me and my new friend James Raynor, if you please!”

_“Request acknowledged. Combat operations to begin in ... ten seconds.”_

“Just don't get too carried away with him, Master Chen,” Morales said as the team spread out. “I don't want to have to deal with his hangover later.”

“Of course, little Rose, of course. I will be quite mindful, I promise!”

Morales knew better than to trust that so easily. Her one experience with the Pandaren's brew had been enough to teach her how quickly it could sneak up on a person. She would just have to make sure she knew where their hangover remedies were when she got back to the ship. Too bad she wasn't authorized to connect to _Gantrithor_ 's sensors or she could arrange to deliver them as soon as Raynor got back. Then again, time flowed irregularly in the Nexus; the return mechanism might have Raynor back in his stateroom at the same time as her regardless of his hold. Or it might not. There was no way for her to know for sure in advance. Still, it wouldn't hurt to be prepared, just in case.

~*~*~

Everything about this match had been weird from the moment Morales had zoned in on it. The team was balanced, but it felt odd to have only one male on the team, just from her experiences. She wasn't familiar with the zone itself, but keeping close to Sonya was always to the best for the team, if only to keep the warrior up longer.

And then night fell and the slightly odd zone turned downright creepy. It was actually something of a relief to hearth back to the castle in their safe zone. Finding the armor docks was another bit of weirdness, but one she was more than happy to use to her advantage. An armor dock, a hot meal, and almost ten hours of rest in the middle of a match? Completely bizarre, but she wasn't asking questions.

“Sonya, I'm assuming you plan on first watch,” Valla said.

“Of course,” the warrior grumbled. “This is too suspicious.”

“I agree,” Valla said, nodding, “but it is what it is.”

“Do we really need to stand watches? The system or whatever will alert us if combat picks up again before the dawn timer runs out, right?”

“And then there's the daylight alert itself, yeah, you're probably right,” Valla sighed. “And since D.va and your commander have already disappeared.... Just ... don't stay up all night watching, Sonya, okay? I know Rosa's got stims to keep you going even without sleep, but I can't help thinking drugs aren't going to be as good as actual sleep.”

“They aren't,” she agreed, nodding herself. “I'll use 'em if I have to, but sleep really is better for you.”

“All right, all right, you don't have to fuss. Worse than two mothers,” Sonya growled, but Rosa could have sworn she saw a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth. “Want to walk a bit, then I'll find myself a bed. Word of honor.”

It was good enough for her. Bidding the two women good night, Morales set off to find a bed of her own, wondering just what she should be expecting from this place.

She wasn't sure what had drawn her feet in that direction, maybe nothing. She definitely should have turned around the moment she realized those sounds were moans of pleasure, not pain. Rosa tried to tell herself to go back, but something was propelling her forwards instead.

“Oh ... oh Daddy, yes! Yes, yes, oh fuck me more, Daddy!”

Rosa's feet froze as her eyes went wide. She didn't even know where to begin, her strict Catholic upbringing both repelled and fascinated by the open door in front of her. She wasn't even sure which was worse, that they'd carelessly left the door wide open or that her senior-most commanding officer was indulging in kinky sex with a mere _teenager_. Or maybe it was the way she couldn't stop watching D.va's nubile body bouncing up and down on Raynor's lap. She could feel something tingling within her at the sight. Yup, she was definitely going straight to Hell. And yet she couldn't stop, falling backwards into darker shadows, even though it was obvious neither D.va nor Raynor were the least bit aware of her. 

It wasn't until they were finished that she was able to force herself away from their door, quietly retreating to another bedroom further up the tower. But as she lay down to sleep, the images wouldn't leave her alone. Dirty and sinful, having sex simply for its own sake, and yet she could all too clearly picture the blissful look on D.va's face. What must it feel like then, really? She had been raised to believe sex was a burden a woman bore for the sake of having children, that when she wed, it would be a pain she suffered through, as only men and virtue-less whores actually _enjoyed_ sex. But what she had just seen....

Rosa could still hear the voice of her childhood priest, railing against sins of the flesh and God's disdain for those who so casually polluted God's finest work with alcohol, drugs, sex, and sinful body modifications. As a child, she hadn't questioned any of it. Twenty years later, as a medic and a veteran of actual combat zones, she found herself questioning everything. Her faith in God Himself was stronger than ever, but everything else....

“God, give me guidance,” she murmured into the darkness. “Forgive me my sins and help me find the way back to the truth of Your light.”

The stillness of the castle wasn't as comforting as she could have hoped.

~*~*~

Morales felt a sort of nervous unease that her next match put her on a team with both Tyrael and Malthael. She kept her distance from the two angels, instead finding herself partnered up with Artanis. The Cursed Hallow was complicated enough of a challenge to keep her mentally alert and occupied, even with just one target in sight. Especially since Artanis was another one who liked to charge head-first into things, though not as bad as some of the others. It was enough to keep her focused on her job, at any rate.

Right up until the long match was finally over and she found herself on an empty battlefield with only Tyrael beside her.

“You are troubled,” the glowing figure said, his sword strangely absent. “How may I help?”

“I... I don't know that you can,” she confessed, glancing around the empty enemy forecourt, mostly to keep from falling to her knees in tears. Even after so many matches, the gleaming archangel still had that effect on her if she looked directly at him for more than a moment.

“You would have made an incredible paladin of the Light, my child,” he said, a glowing hand briefly resting on her shoulder. “You fear the stain of mortal sin, but truly, such a heart as yours has no need to fear thus.”

“But I ... I have sinned. I have coveted and lusted and ... and killed.”

“You are human, perfect in your imperfection. Your heart is filled with devotion. Each day, your faith washes you clean. You embrace the Light with your whole heart and are embraced by the Light in return.”

“But....” Yet words eluded her. And truly, who was she to argue her worth with an angel of the Lord? So why did she still feel so ...wrong?

“The words of men are of men, my child; they distort with each retelling. What you were taught ... nearly two and a half thousand years removed from the prophet who spoke the words, of course there has been distortion. But the Light shines within you, my child. Ask _it_ what is right and what is wrong. The Word of Heaven says that which harms others is the true sin. That which harms none, which instead brings joy and communion ... how indeed can that be sinful?”

It was as if he knew exactly what she had seen, had peered inside her soul to know exactly what was troubling her. Well, he _was_ an angel. Morales knew there was sense in what he was saying, but the words of the priest still echoed in her ears. Eighteen years of training was no small thing to undo.

“If it feels wrong in your heart, then for you, it is wrong. Do not judge yourself by any standards but those of your own pure heart, Miss Rosa. What is right for them may not be right for you, just as what is right for you may not be right for another. And that, too, is by design. Each of you must walk your own path to the Light.”

“But how do I know I'm even _on_ the right path?” she wailed, despair welling up within her. She was so alone here, even with an angel beside her. 

“Shall I let you in on a secret then?” the angel asked and was that _laughter_ she was hearing in his voice? She risked a sideways glance at the angel, but as ever his hood blocked his face. She probably would have gone mad from seeing such perfect radiance anyway.

“What secret?” she asked instead.

“They are _all_ the right path, so long as you are still striving for the Light. One does not end up in Heaven _or_ Hell by accident, in the end it is always a mindful choice. And you, my child, have indeed made the paladin's choice.”

It was perhaps silly, but it made her feel better.

“Thank you, Tyrael,” she said, bowing low before him.

“Go with the blessings of the Light, my child.”

~*~*~

Of course that feeling of reassurance only lasted until she found herself face to face with her commander again, far sooner than she would have liked. What was he doing in her quarters?? And how had he known when to expect her back??

“S-sir? Everything all right?”

“I think that's my line, Rosa,” Raynor said, flashing her an easy grin. “You don't usually come back quite like this, yeah?”

A quick glance told her that her first impression had been wrong, she had actually been sent back to Raynor's stateroom instead of her own. That had to have been a willful choice, Tyrael's active doing, but why? He was trying to tell her something, clearly, but precisely what, she hesitated to even guess. The obvious? Or something else?

“Well sir, I guess the Nexus was bound to glitch like this sooner or later, right?” she said, hoping he wouldn't figure out she was lying. “I'll just, um....”

But while the stateroom itself had plenty of clearance for her, the door wasn't actually wide enough to let her out while still fully armored. And there was really nothing she could do about that, what with Raynor's dock already occupied.

“Be at ease, Lieutenant Morales.”

Tassadar. She wasn't even going to ask how he had known to come so quickly, instead powering down her suit's systems and then taking off her helmet. As before, the templar used his psychic abilities to lift her clear of the cumbersome armor without actually touching her. Two more Protoss, anonymous in their blank faces and sleek ship suits, moved in to carefully dismantle the suit. Morales tried not to wince at the sight of the floating pieces, but at least it got the job done. She could ... _probably_ trust the Protoss to get it back together again just fine. Yet when she moved to follow, Raynor caught her elbow, holding her back until the room was empty but for the two of them again.

“Rosa ... you sure you're okay?”

“I'm fine, sir,” she said with a nod that apparently wasn't all that convincing. “Really, sir, I'm fine. Just tired. You know how it is after a long match, yeah?”

He still looked skeptical even as he nodded in agreement.

“Hot shower will do wonders, especially for the shoulders,” he said. “Should probably eat something, too, before you sack out.”

“That's the plan, sir,” she said with another small nod. He didn't look very convinced, but he was letting her leave. She would take what she could get.

~*~*~

In dreams, Rosa Morales could do pretty much anything she wanted. Like actually having the nerve to proposition the commander. Maybe after a shared match, back in his stateroom. In dreams, she could be confident and sexy, unashamed of anything. His hands would feel so good, so warm and alive on her skin. He would worship her slowly, like a hero in a romance book, and everything would be perfect.

Morales woke up panting and very nearly _aching_ to be touched. Closing her eyes, she fell back in her bed, all too glad she had stayed in her Protoss-granted stateroom instead of returning to her bunk on _Hyperion_. Back on the ship, she wouldn't have felt nearly secure enough in her privacy to touch herself, cupping one breast and whimpering softly. Her other hand stole into her panties, but it was almost too much, as sensitive as the dream had left her. And yet not nearly enough. She pushed a finger into her eager sex, but it wasn't nearly as satisfying as the dream had been.

“Need a hand with that?” a low voice asked at the same time a hand slid up her thigh, the other covering her mouth. “Don't scream, it's just me.”

“C-commander Raynor, s-sir,” she stammered against his hand, momentarily frozen in shock. Oh God, he'd caught her, she was completely humiliated. _Could_ this get any worse? Wide eyes dropped from his face to see he was only wearing boxer briefs. That did nothing to hide the bulge of his cock.

“So my alien boyfriend decided I needed to know ... more than you probably wanted me knowing,” he said, his hands pulling the bedding down her body in a slow tease. “I'd apologize for him, but truth is he really doesn't understand any of this.”

“A-alien b-boyfriend?” she stammered.

“Not that important right now. Unless you want me to stop,” he said, his hands stopped on her knees, still standing at the foot of her bed. Morales shivered, pulling her hand out of her panties with a little whimper. This was crazy, she should not be allowing any of this. But she couldn't stop staring at him and wondering what it would be like if she actually said yes. He was watching her, a hungry look in his eyes she couldn't remember seeing from him in the past.

“Please, sir,” she whimpered, kicking the bedding off the rest of the way herself. A low grunt and he rucked up her shirt, climbing onto the bed and latching onto one breast with the prickly sensation of unshaved whiskers. He caught her wrist, pulling her hand down to his crotch. Curious but inexperienced, Rosa's fingers lightly brushed against cloth-covered flesh, tracing the outline of his cock. Raynor dropped her wrist to better support himself over her, his hips pushing into her hand in a wordless plea for more. Morales hesitated, then tugged on his briefs with both hands, pulling them down. His tongue teased her nipple even as he rolled the other one between calloused fingers, pinching it. She groaned at the unexpected pleasure of it.

“Oh God, please, sir.”

“Please what, Morales?” he asked, looking up at her with a positively wicked grin. He wasn't really going to make her say something so dirty, was he?

“Please, sir, more,” she mumbled, blushing hard at even that little. And the commander's grin got even worse.

“More what? More of this?” he asked before flicking her nipple with his tongue again. “Or maybe more of something else?”

Whiskers, lips, and tongue trailed down her chest in a slow tease that was driving her wild. He lingered at her belly button and she whined, rocking against him. But Jim Raynor would not be hurried, not so easily anyway, and he traced a line to her hip with more kisses and nips. One finger hooked into her panties, pulling aside the damp crotch, and Rosa felt herself going deep red as he just gazed at her for a moment.

“Wouldn't have pegged you for the shaved type, Morales,” the commander said, smirking and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her pubic mound. If possible, she blushed even harder, feeling his eyes on her while another finger oh so slowly explored the folds of her sex. It was torture, what was he even doing? She felt dirty, being examined so intimately by him.

And then something warm and wet brushed against her and oh God that was his tongue. It was shameful, she felt completely dirty at the sensation of him lapping at her, even humming with pleasure. And yet it felt so _good_ , fingers closing in his hair even as her treacherous body rocked up against him.

“Oh God, yes, oh yes sir,” she gasped, cheeks red with embarrassment as even her mouth betrayed her. But the way he licked at her, teasing her clit then moving lower with the flat of his tongue, actually pushing it into her.... Sinful and wonderful and she wanted it, wanted it so much she was begging for more. And he gave it to her, pushing two fingers into her aching pussy while he sucked on her clit. Urgent pleasure shot through her, her back arching like a bow as she came hard, sparks behind her eyes and breath trapped in her chest. A moment and she collapsed, boneless and glowing.

“What, that's it?” Raynor teased, pressing another kiss to her belly.

“Lemme, mm, lemme breathe a minute,” she mumbled. He didn't seem quite so inclined, painting a trail of wet kisses up her body as he settled between slack thighs. And maybe she didn't really want him to, a limp hand reaching up to thread fingers into his hair as he worked over one breast, her nipple pebbling at the touch of his wicked tongue. Morales whimpered, then whined again at the feel of something bigger than his fingers nudging against her. She shook her head a little, certain she couldn't be ready for this yet. James caught her chin, turning her towards him and kissing her in a way no one ever had before, passionate but tender.

“If you want to stop....”

Another shake of her head and he laughed, kissing her again. And then he was easing into her, slow and gentle thrusts that worked a little deeper each time. She could feel herself stretching around him, felt the hardness of his dick rubbing against her sensitive places without any of the pain she had been expecting. This was ... it felt amazing, she couldn't believe how good he was making her feel.

“Oh God, sir,” she moaned, clinging to his shoulders and moving with him.

“Good, yeah?” he murmured, nipping at her throat.

“Hnn, so good, sir, don't stop, don't ever stop,” she mumbled. His low, throaty laugh said it all. She didn't want the night to ever end, it felt so good. Morales peaked again with a low whimper, clinging to him as Raynor moved faster, harder, her body too sensitive and at the same time wanting even more until it all came crashing to a halt as he released inside her, managed a few last weak thrusts, then collapsed to the bed. She needed a few moments to collect herself, wiggling out of her utterly debauched night clothes before moving to curl into his side, smiling at the arm that tucked itself around her shoulders. This, too, was good, and while she was loathe to spoil it, he would probably never be more open to being completely honest with her. And she needed to know the truth.

“So ... alien boyfriend?” she asked, lightly tracing her fingers over his sternum.

“... I actually called him that, didn't I?” the commander said with a soft chuckle. “Hell Rosa, I don't know what to call him. The Khalani word won't stick in my head and nothing in English feels quite right. It's not a matter of public record, at least not as far as the Raiders are concerned, okay? The Khala knows, but Protoss and secrets ... as far as the Khala is concerned, Tass and I have a special bond and it's a good thing, the same as if we were just two Khalai sharing the same sort of bond. But, well, you know us judgmental humans....”

“Has it been going on for awhile then?”

“If you're working around to asking who else knows, Artanis does, as part of the Khala when he and Tass share battlegrounds. And apparently the angels exist outside linear time, so they've always known? I don't know, angels aren't really my thing. Other than that ... I didn't even tell Hana.”

“The angels are God's messengers to us mortals below, it makes sense they would see Creation more like He does than we do,” she said, nodding a little. No wonder Tyrael had known what was troubling her even better than she had herself. And perhaps why he had sent her back to Raynor in the first place.

“Where does that put us then, sir?”

“Where can it put us? Rosa, I'm still your commanding officer. I shouldn't have let this happen once, let alone repeating it.”

“Maybe. Maybe the rules don't apply the same to mercs, sir.”

“Maybe that argument would hold more water if you didn't keep calling me sir,” he countered with a shake of his head. “Face it, Rosa, this was a mistake.”

“I don't regret it. Do you?”

“Hell no! But that doesn't make it right.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I can give you something Executor Tassadar can't, you know. Anyway, you're staying here tonight. Who knows, you might feel different in the morning.”

She wasn't sure she actually believed any of that, but ... maybe. Morales could do a lot with a maybe. And for now, she would take it.


End file.
